A/N: hope you enjoy my new Jungkook fic

ONE

Jeon Jungkook wrapped the grimy cloth around his knuckles several times, wincing as the sweat glistening on his face his split skin. His chest heaved, and he leaned heavily on the bar, but his eyes were quick. He watched the fight he had just been flung aside of. Two massive males locked in what he can only describe as a mess of limbs and headlocks. Absolutely nothing but primal rage. An even smile curled on his lips, not bothering to knock that tendrils of hair out of his eyes, he pushed off the bar and flung himself back into the frenzy.

The nightclub hardly deserved its title, nothing more than a small warehouse and a granite bar that was prone to sludging around, but he had come to call the dirty place home. They paid him to throw fights here. He did mind, as long as they didn’t rough him up too much.

Jungkook groaned loudly as he was slammed in the side by a fist that he expected, allowing himself to crumple onto the floor and twisted slightly so that the heavy boot wouldn’t kick anything vital. Pain blossomed in his stomach, but he clenched his teeth and ducked his head, waiting for the shrill sound of the bell.

There it was. The pounding stalled and Jungkook waited until the crowd around himself has dispersed completely before picking himself up.

“Damn, he gave you a proper beating, huh?” A silvery voice laughed and Jungkook glanced up to see the male bartender observing him from behind the bar.

“Don’t they always, Jake,” Jungkook mumbled as he dusted his shirt and limped over to the bar for good measure.

Jake the bartender poured a honey-colored liquid into a glass and pushed it towards the fighter.

“You’re a smart one, kid,” Jake started as he always did when he had to watch Jungkook get beat down. “I don’t know why you keep coming back, you’re strong and young. Go get a job, woman.”

Jungkook shook his head, as he always did when Jake told him to leave. As if he had somewhere to go.

“Don’t call me kid.” Was all he ever said. Only one person had ever called him that, but he lacked the energy to fight the bartender. Besides, he gave Jungkook free drinks.

He tipped his head back, swallowing whatever was in the glass without questioning it. A chime from his phone drew his attention and he glanced at the message from where he had left it on the bar to avoid having the screen crack in another way.

A money wire message. He’d been paid.

“Can I get another?” Jungkook pushed the glass back towards the Jake.

The glass was refiled. Emptied.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Jungkook said, patting the counter as if was Jake’s shoulder.

“Tomorrow then,” Jake repeated.

Jungkook nodded his head at the older man, pushing off the bar and shoved his phone into his pocket. He had to get back to his apartment and get patched up before tomorrow. Allow for some sort of healing, he had another fight scheduled.

A he would be there, like clockwork.

“Excellent work, Via,”

She heard the words, but the praise meant nothing to her. She let go of the writhing body of her opponent and inclined her head towards the two white-clothed men that watched her from the sidelines. Their smiles were encouraging, but she hardly noticed any genuine emotion on their face but eagerness. Eagerness to put her into the field.

Doing what, she had no idea.

She had been doing nothing but performing these acts of violence for these people. They brought her into the rooms and told her who her enemies were. She took them down, they praised her and then they brought her back to her room to be left alone until the next day.

“Your progress is incredible, like nothing we’ve ever seen,” the taller of them spoke up. She had never learned their names. They had said them, but she never bothered